Like Birds
by DahliaSheng
Summary: Everyday, Castiel reminds himself to believe.


**A/N: Set during season 5, as Castiel is searching for God.**

* * *

He can feel the small metal talisman against his skin: smooth and intricate and pointed. Sometimes days go by before Castiel even considers letting the object slip out of his hand. Other times, he wears it on the cord around his neck. The flesh there always feels hypersensitive then, yearning for a flash of heat that means his quest is not in vain. Will not be in vain.

But thus far, the only warmth given off by the amulet has been from his vessel's own body heat.

Everyday, that tiny lump of metal feels colder. Everyday, his faith wavers a little more, as unsteady as a blossom faced with winter. Everyday, Castiel reminds himself to believe. After all, his own continued survival ought to be proof of his Father's compassion and existence.

But there is doubt in his heart and it is a shadow that isn't so easily removed or ignored. This is, he realizes belatedly, a symptom of humanity. A side effect of free will. Doubt dampens the bright glow of his Grace, drags at his very wings.

Today, he's in Omaha, Nebraska, at the zoo of all places. The weather is cool, mild winds whipping at clothes and hair alike. People mill around, laughing, snapping photos, and generally enjoying the day. Castiel isn't sure what brought him here, except for an inexplicable desire for the shade of trees and the quiet majesty of animals. He's ended up at the budgie exhibit, sitting calmly on a low wooden bench.

Adults and children alike wander around the enclosure, holding out sticks of bird seed in hopes of enticing a budgie to their hand. The creatures flutter all over, their calls high and shrill. Castiel knows each of these avian specimens have been bred in captivity: they are wild but restrained. They are well-fed and cared for in their man made habitat. And yet, he cannot help but idly wonder if they would choose freedom. That is, if they were given the choice and ability to understand.

The angel can imagine Dean's reply to such a question. "They're just birds, Cas," he'd surely say, a firm note of exasperation in his voice. "I think we have bigger fish to worry about."

That was Dean in a nutshell: shoot first, philosophize later. Maybe life was easier that way.

"You look like someone rained on your parade." An elderly, grey-haired man smiled kindly down at Castiel, seating himself on the other end of the bench.

Cas gave him a puzzled look. "I'm sorry, but I didn't participate in this parade you're referencing." He took note of the man's outfit: neat black slacks and shirt with a starched collar. The distinct strip of white peeking out at his neckline was not lost on Castiel: this man was a priest.

Surprisingly, the priest laughed. "Your sense of humor is intact at least."

The angel shook his head slowly, doubtful. "I've been told that humor is not my strong point."

The human man merely chuckled again before tipping his head back. "Lovely, aren't they?" He nodded towards a cluster of birds perched above.

"They are interesting creatures, yes," Castiel agrees dispassionately.

"I come here sometimes to refresh my faith," the priest continued, oblivious to the angel's confusion. "To see evidence of our Lord's greatest gift."

He frowns at the priest, replying slowly. "You're referring to life."

A young budgie with bright blue plumage lands on the ground in front of them, eyes looking expectantly around for food. The priest reaches into his pocket, cupping a small amount of bird seed in his palm. He extends his hand carefully. The bird's feathers flatten slightly in nervousness, eyeing the offering warily.

"Sort of," the man replies, voice quieter. "Life is wonderful, yes, but just simply existing can be an empty...endeavor."

Castiel watches as the budgie inches forward, its small beak open and straining towards the proffered food. It hesitates, obviously disinclined to approach a creature so much bigger than itself. To his surprise, though, it suddenly hops forward and perches tentatively on the priest's outstretched fingers.

"Our Father could have made us all exactly as we are now," the man continued, smiling happily as the bird finally began to eat. "But it would mean nothing if he didn't give us our minds."

"You mean free will."

He nods, sighing. "Science will tell you this animal's wings are a result of evolution, a trait necessary for its survival." His head tilted, eyes looking the bird up and down. "That debate isn't important. Consider the bird. It flies out of necessity, out of need, it's true. But it also flies out of desire, out of a simple whim to expend energy or feel the air. It plays, it dares, it learns."

He reached out a finger, sliding it oh-so-lightly against the budgie's wing feathers. Startled, it flutters away with a squawk.

Castiel frowned, watching it fly off and rejoin its flock mates. "But it also knows fear. And hunger, pain."

"Perfection is beautiful, but it does not inspire growth," said the priest. "Would it appreciate its food if it did not hunger? Would it know to be wary of danger if it did not feel pain?"

The angel shook his head. "Surely God can just give this knowledge to all his creations." He thought he saw a flash of sadness go through the human man, but it was gone before Castiel could identify it.

"But that would be uniformity. Hardly an improvement over a mindless life." He stood abruptly, dusting seed husks off his trousers. "A parent may nurture a child, Castiel, but he must also teach that child to stand on its own."

The angel froze. "How do you know my name?"

The man had begun to walk away, but Cas was in front of him within a heartbeat, hand ready to call forth his sword. "Who are you?"

The priest smiled, serenely calm. "You've travelled so far, changed so much from what you once were," he whispered. "It gives me hope."

For the first time in a long, long time, Castiel felt breathless. The amulet shivered on its cord, its metal hot against his skin. "Fa-"

Faster than a blink, the priest's fingers were tapping his brow. "I'm sorry."

* * *

Castiel blinked, the sunlight suddenly bright in his eyes. He shook his head slowly, feeling slightly dazed. Had he dozed off? Perhaps he'd overtaxed himself with all this traveling.

It was almost noon, judging by the heat. He'd stayed here longer than he originally intended.

Standing stiffly, he inhaled the warm air one last time before reaching inward, feeling Grace slide through his vessel like water. For a split second, Castiel thought he felt Dean's talisman heat, making his skin prickle.

But when he reached up, the metal was hard and cold against his fingers. Well, not cold exactly, he amended. The sunlight touched it too, and it felt less lifeless to his touch.


End file.
